YOU AND ME

Ayush

---

We’re back at the house, the heavy silence from the ride home still hanging between us. I glance over at Amina as she quickly moves to go upstairs, her face an unreadable mask. It’s like she’s shutting me out again, and the urge to reach out, to hold her, burns inside me. But I bite it back. I remind myself of the anger that’s been festering inside me ever since Grandma… no, I can’t think about that now.

“Ayush?” Father’s voice breaks through my thoughts, pulling me back to the room. He’s seated with Ramesh and the others, all gathered like it’s a normal evening. Except, nothing feels normal.

“So… how was the trip?” Raj asks, trying to sound casual, but there’s an edge of curiosity in his tone.

I shrug, barely managing to keep my voice steady. “It was fine. Nothing much to say.”

Across the room, Amina suddenly speaks up, her voice carrying a strange calm. “Whoever told you a getaway would fix things was wrong. Nothing changed. We still hate each other. Still ready to tear each other apart at the slightest moment.”

Everyone stops talking. The room falls silent, all eyes turning toward her. She doesn’t wait for a reply and disappears upstairs before anyone can ask more questions. My heart twists painfully as I watch her go, guilt mingling with the familiar anger that I can’t shake off.

“Ayush, what’s going on?” Father asks, concern lacing his voice.

I don’t answer. Instead, I follow her. I can’t let her keep shutting me out like this. Not anymore.

---

When I reach our room, Amina is sitting by the window, her back turned to me. The soft glow of the setting sun catches in her hair, making her look untouchable—like a distant, unreachable dream. She hears me come in but doesn’t say a word. I stand there, feeling this invisible wall between us, something thicker than any argument we’ve ever had.

“I’m tired, Ayush,” she finally says, her voice soft but cutting through the silence like a blade. “I’m so tired of pretending. Of us pretending that everything’s fine when it’s not. We argue, we make up, we have sex… and then we’re right back to hating each other the next day. It’s exhausting.”

I feel a familiar knot of frustration building in my chest. Why is she pushing this right now?

“Amina, not now. I’m not in the mood for this,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair.

She stands up abruptly, her eyes flashing with something like hurt, or maybe it’s anger. I can’t tell. I don’t know how to read her anymore. “Not in the mood?” Her voice trembles, but there’s fire behind it. “You’re never in the mood when it comes to talking about us. You’d rather act like everything’s fine, pretend we’re okay, and then brush it under the rug until the next fight blows up in our faces.”

I open my mouth to argue, to tell her she’s wrong, but the words die on my lips. Because she’s not wrong.

“You know what?” She lets out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Fine. Let’s not talk about it. I’m done trying to figure you out, Ayush. I’m done trying to pretend you care when you clearly don’t. If we’re going to go back to hating each other, then let’s just do that. But don’t treat me like you love me—don’t act like you’re concerned for me one minute and then turn cold the next.”

My throat tightens, but I keep quiet. Because she’s right. Again.

She walks past me, her shoulder brushing against mine, and I feel a chill that has nothing to do with the cool air. As she reaches the door, she pauses, and for a moment, I think she’ll turn back. That she’ll say something, anything that will make this easier. But she just walks away.